


first it was fun (now it's fireworks)

by MissSunFlower94



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (sort of?), Also this airship trip can take months if I want it to, Anyway there's a relationship montage in here, Asexual Character, Fluff and Smut, Helen would be so disappointed in me, Masturbation, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Neck Kissing, Other, What's The Opposite of a Slowburn? A Speedrun?, good communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSunFlower94/pseuds/MissSunFlower94
Summary: "In relationships like, um, like ours - or really any relationship - it’s important to be forthright and- and honest with each other.”“Right,” Zolf says, not really understanding.
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom/Zolf Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 64





	first it was fun (now it's fireworks)

**Author's Note:**

> I have like half a dozen Zolf/Cel fics sitting in my heart but for some reason it's the smut that my ace ass decided *needed* to be written first.
> 
> Anyway, more than 2k and a boatload of projecting onto one Mr. Smith later, it's done and I'm pretty pleased. So - enjoy!

The first night after the aurora-based nonsense occurred, Cel knocks on the door to Zolf’s cabin, their arms full of fabric. 

Before he can even ask, they immediately begin to babble about _sleeping poorly alone_ and _they weren’t sure if Azu was with Kiko or not_ and _the other cabins were_ too many _people_ and _they didn’t need a lot of people they just needed one person in the room so when they woke up they knew that they weren’t alone again_ and _they’d brought stuff to sleep on the floor or maybe make a hammock they really wouldn’t be intruding_ \- 

“Cel,” he says - a few times before they stop, looking at him with wide eyes. “Come in. It’s fine.”

“Are- Are you sure? Because I-”

“I’m sure.” Then it’s his turn to hesitate. “Just, um, would it help you sleep if someone was- closer?” They blink and he feels his face warm, unsure where the thought is even coming from. Too late to take it back. “Because like... bed’s big enough.”

“Oh!” Cel says, surprised but not upset. “Oh, I- I mean, I suppose it- it probably would. But- would- you’d be okay with that?” 

“I- yes. If- if you are.”

“Um. Yeah. I- I am.”

And that’s that. It's a bit awkward at first, because how couldn’t it be? Zolf is… fond of Cel, even if he isn't great at showing it, and the last thing he wants is for this to make things more uncomfortable between them. He can only hope Cel being willing to come to him with this means they no longer thought him rude and aggressive but he doesn’t know for sure and is hardly going to ask. 

Still after some awkward shuffling and embarrassed apologies, they find a position comfortable for them both and he feels Cel eventually drift off to sleep. 

When he asks them how they slept the next morning, he’s rewarded with their bright, characteristic grin. Their hair is wild and their eyes bright and Zolf grins back, spending the morning more chipper than he had been in a while. 

They try to spend the next night in their own cabin, but Zolf isn’t all that surprised that they come back the night after that. If anything he’s a little… flattered.

And after that, it’s an unspoken routine. 

It’s more comfortable from there, as it becomes clear that it’s changed nothing in their team dynamic. Cel grows more tactile, but always checks with Zolf to make sure it’s alright if they put their arm around him or rest their cheek on the top of his head. He always says yes, because it always is. It’s unexpectedly pleasant, surprisingly natural, warm and comfortable and something he would have never acknowledged wanting until he had it. 

It’s a week into it - Svalbard still more than a week away at best, the weather slowing their progress to a crawl - when Zolf’s schedule has him on deck especially early. He wriggles out of Cel’s embrace and they murmur a sleepy protest, half-heartedly trying to pull him back to them. He laughs, feeling oddly breathless, and without thinking leans back down to brush his lips gently over theirs. 

Zolf realizes what he’s done a second too late and his stomach lurches as he pulls away. But Cel doesn’t react other than to smile a small, dreamy smile, falling back asleep almost immediately. Zolf lingers a second longer, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, before he leaves, spending the morning distracted and clumsy.

Cel says nothing about it during the day and he begins to think they might not have noticed at all and tries to be more relieved than disappointed. Then, when they join him to sleep that night he can feel the unspoken tension in the room, their eyes on him. When he asks if they’re okay, with an abysmal attempt at a causal air, Cel nods - more as if coming to a decision than in answer to his question - leans down to take his face in their hands and kisses him. The touch is quick, chaste, but full of intent and when they pull away their smile is lopsided and giddy and he can feel himself answering it. 

“Good night, Zolf,” they say brightly.

That becomes a routine as well. 

~*~*~*~

It’s not long after that, after whatever this has been shifted into whatever it is, and Zolf wakes from nothing in particular. He can tell it's a few hours before sunrise yet, and whatsmore a few hours before either of them are needed. His face is pressed to Cel’s shoulder, their arms snuggly around him. It’s not uncomfortable but he knows trying to get out of bed before they wake up is going to be fruitless. So he doesn’t bother, shifting only enough that he can lay his head more comfortably against them.

They smell like engine grease and metal and the air just before a storm. The collar of the shirt they sleep in is open, their chest peppered with small burns from what he can only assume is damage from explosions and potions gone wrong. He shifts a little bit more, absently pressing his lips over a scar on their collarbone. 

He feels as much as hears Cel’s laughter over his head. “Good morning,” they say through a yawn. They roll onto their back, taking Zolf with them so that he’s laying on top of them. 

“Good morning,” he echoes, pecking them on the lips before scooting back so they’re not taking all of his weight. They may claim not to mind, but he swears they must be hollow-boned, they’re so light. Cel keeps an arm around him, keeps him from leaving the embrace entirely - as if he had any intention of doing so. He rolls his eyes and scoots back in, close enough to kiss them again, this time on the neck.

Cel inhales, tilting their head a little to the side instinctively. Zolf takes the invitation and repeats the action; they breathe out in a soft, shuddery sigh. Another kiss, gentle over the point of their pulse. Cel _gasps_. 

Zolf pauses. That’s new. He waits, a breath away from their skin, until Cel brings a hand up to cup the back of his head, blunt nails scritching lighting at his scalp. He sighs, his eyes drifting shut as he leans in to continue his affections. 

Admittedly, this is _all_ new, their kisses still often quick and light, their mornings usually a blur when there are jobs to be done on deck. This lazy sort of intimacy is new. New and _more_ and not at all unpleasant, and if Cel isn’t complaining he’s not going to give it up yet. 

Cel is doing the opposite of complaining; humming their pleasure and arching a little toward the soft passes of his lips on their skin. It’s a nice sound, he thinks absently, but he liked that gasp and wants to hear it again. Almost experimentally, he gently grazes his teeth over the corner of their jaw.

“ _Oh_ ,” Cel says in a small, high voice he’s never heard from them before. Warmth pools in his gut, and he nips at their skin a little harder. Their hand twists in his shirt, he feels them shiver. “Zolf...” 

Gods, he’s always loved the way Cel says his name, and it’s never sounded better than it does right then. 

He bites softly on their jaw again, moving up toward their ear - curious if it's as sensitive as their neck seems to be. Testing the waters, he kisses them just below their earlobe.

“ _Zolf_ ,” Cel says in a very different voice, and their hands are suddenly on his shoulders. 

They don’t do anything else, don’t push him off, but Zolf moves back as quickly as if someone had yanked him away. He puts as much distance between them as he can without falling off the bed. 

Cel leans back on their elbows, flushed and watching him with an expression that he can only call wary and it makes him feel sick. “Fuck,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Cel, I’m- Gods, Cel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- I mean, that was-” Fuck, he doesn’t know _what_ that was. “Was that too much?”

“I- no- well, I mean, not really in the way you mean, I think.” Cel is a little more composed, sitting up further. “It’s- it’s more that… in relationships like, um, like ours - or really any relationship - it’s important to be- to be forthright and- and honest with each other.”

“Right,” Zolf says, not really understanding. “Cel, I-” 

They push on before he can try to apologize again, their cheeks growing redder as they speak. “Which is why I- it’s important that I tell you that what, um, what you were doing just now made me feel very nice. Just… perhaps, uh- _nicer_ than I think you might have been intending. Or- you know, a different- more intense kind of nice - which, you know, I don’t- I didn’t mind necessarily, but if that wasn’t where you were, um, planning to go with this, I didn’t want-”

It’s at this point in their rambling that Zolf finally understands what they’re saying, and he feels his face burning. “Oh.”

“ _Yeah_.”

They both sit in an embarrassed silence Zolf wishes he knew how to break. This isn’t really a situation he’s ever been in before; this isn’t something he’s ever particularly _wanted_ before. He’s still not sure he wants anything, as Cel puts it, more intense but… he liked this, liked the way Cel reacted to him and if he’s honest, under the initial embarrassment, the knowledge that he’s managed to make them feel _this good_ is, well, nice in its own way. 

Hesitantly, he begins, “Do you want me to-” 

“Oh no, no, no,” Cel interrupts, raising their hands. “No, Zolf, don’t- like, I’m fine! Like, this was already- this was lovely and I’m really fine with stopping now if you want and-”

“I… don’t,” Zolf says.

“What?”

“Want to stop,” he clarifies. “I mean, if- if you don’t, obviously.”

“Zolf-” they begin, and this time he’s the one to cut them off.

“Listen, I’m not- not sure exactly what it all means yet, but I want… this, Cel,” he says with a vague gesture between them and the cabin. “So, if you don’t want to stop neither do I.” 

Cel softens a little, and he can tell they believe him. He’s told them before about his general disinterest in sex, not because they had made a propostion but simply because he felt comfortable enough with them to share it. They continue to study him, chewing on their lip. It’s almost amusing, watching them puzzle out this shift in their relationship the way they would an engineering problem. 

After a moment, he is able to watch an idea play out on their features; their cheeks, beginning to regain their normal shade, darken again and their breath catches lightly - and Zolf watches, entranced.

“Um,” they say. “I could- would it be- would you mind if I, maybe, um… took care of myself? With you here.”

There’s a beat before he realizes what that means. His mouth feels very dry and he swallows. “No,” he says honestly. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind. Is there- what do you want me to do?”

Cel relaxes a little. “Well, I mean, what you were doing before was pretty- well, it was really nice. I mean, that thing you did with your teeth was really- that was a lot. In a good way, a lot and-” 

“Cel, I- I understand,” he says a bit quicker than he intended. They laugh, the sound high and a little nervous but their smile is hopeful and he returns it. “Yeah. Yeah... I could do that.”

There’s another pause, both of them still hesitant and not sure who should move first. Then Cel reaches, cups his face, and draws him back into a kiss. He follows their guidance, immediately resting a hand on the nape of their neck, moaning quietly when they gently coax his mouth open with their tongue. 

The brief awkwardness dissipates like smoke, the heat from earlier quickly rising again in its place. Cel leans back, not breaking the kiss, taking him down with them until they are once again laying with Zolf half-sprawled on top of them. 

Then they move, one hand sliding back into his hair, while the other moves further down - fingers first brushing lightly down his chest and then continuing. Barely audible over the sound of his rapid, pounding pulse in his ears, there is a soft rustle of fabric.

A few seconds later, Cel whimpers, the noise muffled against his mouth and Zolf pulls back as much to catch his own breath as to watch their face. They bite their lip, their eyes fluttering closed, their flush spreading from their cheeks down their neck and disappearing under the collar of their shirt.

“Z-Zolf?” They say, shaking him from staring. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he says, leaning back down to kiss them briefly on the corner of their mouth. Cel smiles and tilts their head back slightly. Zolf shakes his head fondly, and shifts his attention to the length of neck now exposed to him.

He can feel them moving under him, the slight rocking motion of their hips, but it’s the gentle bite he leaves on their throat that makes them moan, the kisses he peppers along the line of their jaw that makes them grip his hair almost painfully. Zolf finally acts on his earlier curiosity, and brushes his lips over the curve of Cel’s ear. They let out a quiet cry, and he pauses.

“Alright?” He asks.

Cel’s breathing has gotten heavier, more uneven, but they manage to gasp, “Do- do that again. Please.” He does, kissing up to the tip and drawing it into his mouth. Cel whines. “Zo- Zolf. _Fuck_.”

He’s never heard Cel curse before - not in English anyway. It’s wonderful. 

They’re getting close, Zolf can hear it in the increasing volume of their moans, feel it in the way they seem to have lost any rhythm as they arch up against their hand. He pulls away again, watching Cel as they throw their head back, every line of their long body going tight. Their building cry cuts short as they seem to stop breathing, frozen for an instant.

Then they breath out, a long, shuddering exhale, falling back against the bed so hard it jostles him slightly. They come down slowly, their chest heaving as their breathing begins to settle again, and their gaze is still slightly unfocused when they smile at him, soft, small and a little shy. 

“How was- I mean, are you okay?”

Zolf laughs, breathless and warm. “I’m fine - I should ask _you_ that,” he points out. “Are you- was that alright?”

Their smile becomes a bit of a smirk. “You need to ask?” When he does nothing but raise an eyebrow, they lift their head enough to peck him on the lips. “That was wonderful. Thank you.”

Satisfied, Zolf settles back down, his head on Cel’s shoulder again. It’s a position he’s woken up in a dozen times now and it feels no different, in spite of everything that’s just happened. Like every other shift in their relationship so far, it feels like this should make things strange, awkward but only seems to do the opposite. It’s backwards, but for once Zolf’s not going to question something good in his life.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass, until Zolf realizes Cel has fallen asleep again. He glances at the porthole in his cabin, where the skies around them are still dark. He smiles, nestles in closer to Cel, and lets himself drift off.


End file.
